


little love

by signifying_nothing



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: ...one sided...mutual masturbation...???, Little!Jimin, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, brief mentions of fat shaming, daddy!seokjin, tho probably not in the way anyone is expecting aaaah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 19:47:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7282228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/signifying_nothing/pseuds/signifying_nothing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he came home and Jimin was on the floor, sitting at the coffee table with a teddy bear on his lap and crayons in his hand, Seokjin knew it had been a bad day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	little love

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [немного любви](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7819741) by [arcane_hero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcane_hero/pseuds/arcane_hero)



> aah, finally, the seokjin/jimin i've been trying to figure out for ages, i'm so happy  
> please enjoy this very soft cuddly couple, i will probably add another chapter to this at some point just to illustrate their relationship and maybe some very important conversations they've had previous ^^  
> enjoy~

When he came home and Jimin was on the floor, sitting at the coffee table with a teddy bear on his lap and crayons in his hand, Seokjin knew it had been a bad day.

At first, he hadn't known what to do with Little Jimin. He'd fought through what felt like eons of online literature, reading up on what the “kink” was, why it was, what he could do about making sure Jimin experienced it safely—he'd been so conflicted, but the third time he walked in on Jimin crying into the fur of a stuffed toy he decided he didn't really care about any of the logistics: he just wanted Jimin to feel better. He just wanted Jimin to feel safe and loved in a way he clearly didn't feel when he was... Big. That was what he worked towards, that was his goal.

So he walked into the house and Jimin was on the floor, coloring, sucking at his thumb with his head rested on the large toy and instead of asking what was wrong, he just treated him like the child he wanted to be treated as.

“Hey sweetie,” he said, sitting down on the couch and smiling when Jimin turned to look up at him, lips pink from sucking at his thumb. “What are you coloring?”

“Ariel,” Jimin replied, picking up the coloring book to show Seokjin what he'd done. Ariel, her hair bright violet and her tail dark blue, her eyes a deep, deep green. All inside the lines.

“Wow sweetheart, I like her hair!” Seokjin said, leaning forward to kiss Jimin's head. “When you finish I'll hang it on the fridge, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy,” Jimin nodded, going back to his coloring. He was content to ignore Seokjin, it seemed, until he went to tear the picture out and hang it up. He hesitated, and Seokjin sat up from the couch, watched the tension in Jimin's shoulders screw tighter and tighter. Jimin was staring at the picture: at the mermaid's body, prettily twisted as she sang to the fish around her. Something about it was clearly upsetting him.

“What's wrong, baby,” Seokjin asked, tucking back the fall of Jimin's bangs and Jimin's expression—his furrowed brow and pursed lips—dissolved into tears. Seokjin cooed gently, pulled him up onto the couch and tucked him in close to his chest. “Oh, oh shh, shh, what's wrong sweetheart,” he asked, cradling Jimin to his chest. It took a long quarter hour to calm Jimin down enough to allow him to speak and even then he stuttered, the base of his thumb pressed against his mouth, unable to stop crying.

“My, my dance teacher sa, said I was h-h- _heavy,_ and th, that I sh, should lose weight if, if I wanted to be in the re-re-recital—” Jimin's breath came so hard and fast he practically choked on it, and Seokjin rubbed his back, urged him closer, kissed what of his cheek he could reach. His soft, rounded cheek. Jimin had always been self-conscious about his weight but it had gotten much worse since his senior year of college started. The dance professors were brutal, bordering on cruel, and Jimin had trouble handling their criticism, especially when it was worded so bluntly. His only close friend in the program, Hoseok, had to quit over the summer when it was laid out that he couldn't afford to keep going, but Jimin was determined, he was.. He was going to _try._ But it seemed like it just got worse with every passing review. No matter how well Jimin did, no matter what praise was rained on his shoulders, that one comment, even offhand, would stick with him for weeks. Would find Seokjin watching Jimin eat tiny portions (if he ate at all), going to the gym, self-consciously standing in front of the mirror in their bedroom, pinching the skin of his belly.

“Oh, oh baby,” Seokjin murmured, his eyes tight. It hurt, that Jimin was so upset. It hurt him, that Jimin cried so hard over such terrible things. Jimin wasn't light, no—but he was muscular, stronger than any of the boys in the program, to the point where, when they didn't have enough couples for pairs, he was paired with another boy. He was graceful and powerful and Seokjin _hated_ to hear that he was being called _heavy._ That was the so-called polite way to call a dancer _fat._

“I ju, I just, I tried so hard and, and it didn't, didn't matter, it didn't matter, she said I was too he-heavy and I just,” Jimin started to hiccup and Seokjin carefully stood up, carried Jimin to the large bathroom. Jimin squeaked and held on tightly, but Seokjin didn't have a problem carrying his weight. He set him down on the edge of the tub, and smiled up at him.

“Sweetie? Are you listening to me?”

“Yes,” Jimin sniffled.

“Listen. We're going to take a bath, okay? We're going to take a bath, and eat dinner. Then maybe we can watch a movie before we go to bed, huh? Does that sound okay?” Jimin nodded and Seokjin leaned to kiss the corner of his mouth. “There's my beautiful boy. Come on, get undressed. Why don't you grab a bath bomb, huh? Any one you want.”

Seokjin's heart loosened just a little as Jimin nodded, got up and toddled to the basket Yoongi had given them for Christmas. He picked one of the brightly colored bombs and put it on the shelf beside the bath while Seokjin turned on the water, but he didn't get undressed.

“What are you waiting for, baby,” Seokjin asked, and Jimin hesitated, his cheeks flushed as one hand rubbed at his eye. “What is it.”

“Can... Can you...”

 _Aah,_ Seokjin thought, and he nodded, reached to unbutton Jimin's shirt from where he sat on the edge of the tub. He kissed his belly, blew a light raspberry and took great comfort in Jimin's sniffly giggle. He pulled down his jeans, his briefs, and tickled his finger over his sides while Jimin laughed in delight, squirming until Seokjin stood and held on to his waist, tightly.

“Daddy?” Jimin asked, his voice small and Seokjin's heart just melted. He hadn't known what to do with Little Jimin at first, but now... Now it brought him just as much comfort and security as it brought Jimin, if only because now Seokjin could take care of him emotionally, in ways Jimin would never have allowed when he was Big.

“Yes, baby.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetface,” he promised, kissing him on the lips. “Now lets get in the bath, huh? Go ahead, put your bomb in.” Seokjin smiled and pulled off his own clothes while Jimin dropped the pastel ball into the water and watched it bubble away into a rainbow of color, bottom lip bitten tight between his grinning teeth.

“It's so pretty,” he said, and Seokjin nodded, climbing into the tub. Jimin pouted. “Daddy wait for _me._ ”

“What are you waiting for, then,” Seokjin asked, smiling as Jimin clambered up into the tub and cuddled against his chest, sighing in contentedness. One of the things Seokjin truly treasured about Little Jimin was his inability to hide what he was feeling. He wasn't sure when Big Jimin had gotten so good at it, honestly, but it was so good to know that when he was like this, Little and safe in Seokjin's arms, he wouldn't lie about how he felt or what was bothering him.

Seokjin traced his fingertips up and down Jimin's muscled back, paid very close attention to the way he breathed, the way his entire body shifted under the water. He listened very closely for the desperate little _daddy_ that worked it's way out of Jimin's mouth while he squirmed.

“Yes, baby,” he asked, not feeling at all aroused (he never was, when Jimin was Little. They'd talked at length about it before: Jimin's Littleness was not a sexual thing between the two of them; he just wanted to be taken care of) but Jimin was hard against his thigh, shivering with the effort of not-moving. “What do you want?”

“I w... I want...” he swallowed hard and Seokjin waited patiently. “Daddy could you... could you touch me more, please? It f... Feels really good.”

“Like this?” Seokjin ran his hand up and down Jimin's back and felt him shudder, felt him flex his legs to press his groin harder into Seokjin's inner thigh.

“N, not there,” Jimin whispered, and Seokjin hummed, settling further into the water.

“Mm, I see. Come here, Jiminie. That's right, lay right here,” Seokjin guided Jimin to tuck his head into Seokjin's neck and reached a hand down to cup his length, squeezing gently. “You want me to touch you here?”

“Y, yes please,” Jimin whispered, and Seokjin nodded.

“Okay, baby.”

Jimin's cock was not small. It was heavy, girthy in Seokjin's hand as he stroked slow and easy, listened to Jimin pant and felt him squeeze his arms around Seokjin's waist. The only sounds in the bathroom were the gently lapping water, the rasping little sounds from Jimin's throat as Seokjin worked him a little harder, just a little more, tightened his grip on the downstroke and allowed his fingers to touch Jimin's sac, give a little rub before pulling away.

“Daddy,” Jimin whispered. “Daddy more, touch me more, please?”

“Why don't you cum just like this for me,” Seokjin murmured, knowing a task to work toward would make Jimin feel more secure. “I know you can, can't you, my sweet boy, you can cum just like this, all over me, can't you?”

“Yes,” Jimin whispered, hiccuped, flexing his hips harder into Seokjin's grip.

“There's my good boy,” he murmured, and Jimin whined, burying his face hard into Seokjin's neck. The water splashed up at the edges of the tub and Seokjin just kept whispering into Jimin's ear, rather reveling in the reactions he got. “Good boy, perfect boy, I love you so much. You're such a good boy Jiminie, you're going to cum for me, you're so perfect, my perfect baby boy—”

Jimin whined hard, his hips pressing forward and stilling, his back muscles tense and shaking. Seokjin cooed under his breath, into Jimin's wet hair. “Oh, there's my good boy, my _beautiful_ boy. Daddy loves you, Jiminie, you're always so perfect for me.”

“Daddy,” Jimin hiccuped and started to cry, and Seokjin just relaxed back into the edge of the tub and pulled Jimin against him, rocked him with great tenderness, kissed all over his sweet, soft face. Until the last of the tears were cried and Jimin was left resting against him, exhausted, almost asleep. “I love you,” he whispered, and Seokjin cooed into his ear while Jimin gave one great sniff and turned his head, nuzzling Seokjin's broad shoulder.

“I love you,” Seokjin assured, even as the water cooled and drained from the tub—even as he turned the shower on to wash them both clean in the hot stream of water. “I love you, Jiminie.”

He carried Jimin into the bedroom. Dried him off with a big, fluffy towel and tickled fingers over his sides until Jimin was giggling despite his stuffy nose and red eyes. He got his younger lover dressed in pajamas and tucked him under the blankets, getting up only to pull on lounge pants, to go get him a drink and light dinner from the kitchen. He put in a movie they could watch from the bed, smiling while Jimin bounced in excitement: earlier sadness forgotten in the wake of Seokjin's affection.

He sat on the covers and smiled as Jimin ate his salad (spring greens with plenty of peppers and grilled chicken, his favorite) and drank cranberry juice from his sippy cup, more than half-asleep before the movie was even half an hour in. It was with great affection that Seokjin tucked Jimin properly into bed, promising that it was okay if he didn't brush his teeth before bed just this once. He let Jimin fall asleep against his chest and kissed his head, promised himself that if Jimin didn't feel better by the morning he'd take the day off of work to spoil his Little lover properly.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he murmured into Jimin's hair, flooded with contentment, with so much love, as Jimin mumbled and turned into him, thumb sucked into his mouth, eyes closed in peaceful slumber.

 


End file.
